


Emblem of My Affections

by merryfortune



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, Bondage, Drabble Collection, Dub/non-con, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Hand & Finger Kink, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, Smut, Some Chapters are Alternate Universe, Some Chapters are Canon Compliant, untagged kinks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-16 22:21:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 5,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16503833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryfortune/pseuds/merryfortune
Summary: Smutty drabble dump for Fire Emblem (Fates, Awakening, & SOV currently) from requests I received over Tumblr. As well as interspersing of little drabbles I don't want to turn into proper fics.Chapter 1 functions as a table of contents with warnings for each chapter and each chapter does come with a blurb of what to expect.





	1. Table of Contents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Table of contents of my smutty request dumps.

**Bath House**

  * **Ship:** Silas/Corrin
  * **Universe:** Fates – Canon Compliant
  * **Rating:** E
  * **Tags:** Masturbation, In Water, m!Corrin



**Mad Mirror**

  * **Ship:** Grima/Chrom/Robin
  * **Universe:** Awakening – Canon Divergent
  * **Rating:** M
  * **Tags:** Angst, Non-Explicit Sex, Dub/Non-Con, No Specified Gender for Grima or Robin



**Herbs**

  * **Ship:** Lon’qu/Panne
  * **Universe:** Awakening – Canon Compliant
  * **Rating:** M
  * **Tags:** Mating Cycles/On Heat, Rough Foreplay, Non-Explicit Sex



**It Actually Went In**

  * **Ship:** Niles/Corrin
  * **Universe:** Fates – Canon Compliant
  * **Rating:** E
  * **Tags:** Explicit Sex, Fluff, Loss of Virginity, Awkward Sex, f!Corrin



**Her Hand**

  * **Ship:** Alm/Celica
  * **Universe:** Shadows of Valentia – Canon Compliant
  * **Rating:** M
  * **Tags:** Non-Explicit Sex, Hand & Finger Kink



**Prisoner**

  * **Ship:** Ryoma/Xander
  * **Universe:** Alternate – Pirates
  * **Rating:** E
  * **Tags:** Dub/Non-Con, Bondage, Slight Humiliation



**The Sweetest Champagne**

  * **Ship:** Leo/Felicia
  * **Universe:** Fates – Canon Compliant
  * **Rating:** M
  * **Tags:** Non-Explicit Sex, Wedding Night, Nipple Play, Food & Drink



**Victory; Bright**

  * **Ship:** Xander/Mozu
  * **Universe:** Fates – Canon Compliant
  * **Rating:** E
  * **Tags:** Explicit Sex, Vanilla Sex, Procreation



**Purple Dusk**

  * **Ship:** not applicable | Cherche-centric
  * **Universe:** Alternate – Modern
  * **Rating:** M
  * **Tags:** Lingerie, Voyeurism



**Armour**

  * **Ship:** Alm/Celica
  * **Universe:** Shadows of Valentia – Canon Compliant
  * **Rating:** M
  * **Tags:** Non-Explicit Sex,



**The Ire of Her Bratty Mistress**

  * **Ship:** Severa/Noire
  * **Universe:** Awakening – Canon Compliant
  * **Rating:** E
  * **Tags:** Rough Foreplay, Non-Explicit Sex, Dom/sub, Femdom, Gendered Slurs, Boot Fetishism, Degradation



**Nothing You Would Like**

  * **Ship:** Xander/Mozu
  * **Universe:** Fates – Canon Compliant
  * **Rating:** M
  * **Tags:** Kink Negotiation, Rape Fantasy, Dub-Con Dynamics, Healthy Communication, Non-Explicit Sex, Implied Rough Sex




	2. Bath House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silas overhears Corrin masturbate in the shower and that inspires him.

   The bath house was an interesting place. It was filled with all sorts of lively and quirky characters at their most vulnerable state. Most of the time, it was easy to detect if someone was in there or not.

   However sometimes, people are too absorbed in their hair or skin care programs to notice. Silas thinks that this might be one of those times. After all, he had come for a soak and no one said hello to him, but he soon realised that he was not alone in the bath house. Nay, Corrin was here too.

   Silas entered the water. He didn’t want to disrupt Corrin. He was in the stalls, it seemed. The water rippled around him. Steam wafted up. He sighed but tried not to. Again, not wanting to disrupt Corrin but the mere suggestion of warm water did something to Silas. It relaxed him. Arguably, even aroused him. After all, beneath the surface, he felt his manhood become more attentive.

   Silas placed his head against the towel behind him; it was his. He had stuffed it up so that it would be like a pillow. He closed his eyes and let himself be taken by the thrall of such lovely warm water and the soaps around him.

   And then he heard something peculiar.

   “Urgh, damn it… just a little more.”

   Not only did that grab Silas’ attention, it held it rather precariously. Again, his cock stiffened. He felt not only the pool of warm water but a pool of heat within him. Arousal, certain arousal, flushed through his veins.

   That was Corrin’s voice and because it was Corrin’s voice, something lucid was awakened in Silas. He couldn’t help but imagine his best friend and what he might be doing behind the doors to the stalls, under the showers. It was… erotic.

   Corrin didn’t even know that Silas was here. And even if he did, they were both men, so this sort of thing happened. It was understandable and yet, Silas felt the pricks of a bad idea beneath his skin. Corrin, in all likelihood, didn’t know that Silas was here. That anyone was here. Why else would he take such a risk if he didn’t think he was alone?

   After all, such hot mutterings could only be the result of some rather special alone time. Alone time that Silas, by some will greater than his own, wouldn’t mind indulging in either. So, his right hand went from skirting the meniscus of the water to plunging beneath such a glassy surface.

   He took a breath. He glanced around, furtively. Surely, even if someone came in, they would not realise what was happening beneath the surface of the hot springs that Silas bathed in. And, he swore he wouldn’t be that long. After all, the object of his lusts was likely finishing up too and Silas didn’t want to… dawdle, so to speak.

   So, he grasped himself. His breath released as a quiet hiss. Creases crossed his forehead as he imagined Corrin, doused in water, and in the nude. He imagined his form quite clearly. Too clearly, one may argue but Silas had a keen mind for a great many people. It just so happened that Corrin was the ultimate of all his admirations.

   Corrin moaned again. Silas clicked his tongue. Corrin didn’t even know there was someone listening in. How lewd…


	3. Mad Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chrom, as a prisoner to Grima and Robin, is taken from the dungeon and is at the mercy of their perverse whims.

   Chrom fell to his knees. He was confronted with a reflection of himself as deigned by an ornate and complex thing of a mirror. Though, itself, was dusty and cracked. Thus, the vision of himself was distorted yet entirely appropriate. It showed who he was beneath the glamour of leadership and nobility in the aftermath of the end.

   His face seemed to have lost its youth. Or maybe it was simply hidden beneath the bruises and swellings. Maybe more time had passed than he had thought. How long had it been since he and his country had fallen to Grima?

   Behind him, two figures swirled from a thick, black-purple mist. Chrom choked. Swallowed. His stomach wretched. Robin and Grima had arrived. He had expected as much. After all, why else would he be removed from his dungeon and brought to this place by their lifeless followers?

   “Hello, Chrom.” Grima drawled.

   “What do you want of me?” Chrom barked; turning around briefly so that he may face his captor.

   “Pleasure.” Grima replied.

   Robin knelt by Chrom’s side. Robin was lifeless. Almost like a Risen; eyes blank and staring, uncertain of anything yet devoid of misery. Like a doll; trapped in emotions that it did not know and could not know. Simply painted on in farce of feeling.

   Robin began to undo what remained of Chrom’s clothes. They were dirty and tattered. Rags, really. Robin’s fingers trailed across Chrom’s chest; toying, aimlessly, with abrasions and cuts. Chrom hissed and spat. Robin even pinched his nipples.

   “Now, face forward for me, Chrom. Please.” Grima drawled.

   Chrom refused.

   “Chrom, darling, if I want something of you, I will get something of you. Please, such a simple request. Just face forward.” Grima playfully remarked.

   “Please? For us?” Robin murmured.

   Chrom’s heart ached. That voice. That voice was unmistakably Robin but that body, so hollow and forlorn, was not. Yet, he found himself abiding by his tactician’s will regardless. He swallowed his pride and the bile building up in the back of his throat. He looked forward. Into the mad mirror and how it reflected himself and his captors.

   “Good, good. You’ve always been so pliant, Chrom. Bending to my every wish… So sweet.” Grima teased. “And now, I hope you give us a really good show.”

   Robin’s hand reached downwards. Chrom sputtered as Robin removed not only his shirt but attempted to wrangle him free of his pants.


	4. Herbs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently Taguels do go on heat... but only when they're exposed to whatever herbs are in Panne's new soap.

   “Sex. Now.” Panne growled, red-faced with wet hair.

   She had just returned from some private bathing and Lon’qu could smell herbs on her. She grabbed his shoulders whilst he had been preening, getting ready for bed. Her grip on him was irony; like a bear-trap, really.

   “Okay.” Lon’qu squeaked.

   He let Panne push him onto their shared bed. It bounced, slightly, beneath them with a damned creak. Panne straddled Lon’qu and her hands got lost in the furs that he donned himself with.

   Lon’qu looked up at Panne. “Are you… alright?” he asked.

   Panne lowered herself unto him. She sniffed his neck and then found his pulse. He felt her breath on his skin and it tingled. She bit into him, as gently as she could and there was obvious restraint, more so that usual, and then kissed where she had made indentations upon his neck.

   “No. I’m…” Panne embarrassedly snapped in reply. “I’m on heat.”

   “Oh…” Lon’qu murmured.

   Panne grinded against Lon’qu and then kissed his mouth ravenously. It was long and messy, but ultimately it was Lon’qu who brought it off.

   “I didn’t know Taguels… went on heat.” Lon’qu replied.

   “Well, we do.” Panne snipped at him.

   She kissed his mouth again. Teeth clicking and gnashing together as tongues pushed through. It was hot and slobbery. Lon’qu huffed and he found himself getting harder with every fervent movement of Panne’s.

   Lon’qu entangled his hand in her hair, pinching her ears. She yipped.

   “What are you doing?” Panne inquired.

   “Teasing you.” Lon’qu said. “I want to make sure you use your teeth and nails on me.”

   “I see.” Panne replied.

   Lon’qu propped himself up now that Panne had been distracted, giving him some leeway. He quickly tore off his coat.

   “I like it rough.” He said. “Like an animal.”

   Panne snickered. “Like an animal, huh?”

   As soon as Lon’qu’s coat hit the ground. Panne was straight back to humping her husband. Her hands on his chest, caging his pectorals and slowly sinking her nails in. She kissed Lon’qu and he kissed back with everything she gave him and then some. She growled. It reverberated on his skin and Lon’qu smiled to himself.

   He felt Panne grind against him once more. Blood coursed through him; exhilarated by all the sudden arousal which was still building rather steadily. It was going to be a long and eventful night, Lon’qu thinks.


	5. It Actually Went In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corrin and Niles have penetrative sex for the first time. And its Corrin's first time for anything sexual.

   Niles held Corrin firmly, around her waist. He eased herself into her and she went bright red. Her eyes, mauve and soft, went wide.

   “Oh, my gods,” she murmured, genuinely surprised, “it went in. It actually went in.”

   Niles snickered. “I told you, I might be big, but you underestimated yourself, my dear.”

   Niles gave a slight thrust. Corrin moaned but it was a rather awkward and warbled moan but a moan nonetheless. Niles chortled again. It was rather amusing, having sex with a virgin. Though, she wasn’t a virgin no more. So, he had been going very slow and very sweetly.

   Corrin cupped Niles’ face and bumped her forehead against his. Niles closed his eyes to her. He could smell the musk of sweat and something more; it almost reminded him of the battlefield. Though, he supposed, that was where he smelt his lover at her most odorous so that might be why.

   “This is… nice.” Corrin panted.

   Niles thrusted once more; cycling through motions which were small and tantalising.

  “Thank you.” he murmured. “Do you want to try…?”

   “No-Nope, not ready. Let’s keep doing this.” Corrin quickly cut him off.

   “That’s fine, it will be my pleasure to bring you to your peak.” Niles said.

   “Thank you.” Corrin mumbled. “Thanks… And – And don’t forget about yourself.”

   “I won’t.” Niles said, and he moved his chin up so that their lips met.

   The ensuing kiss was slick. After all, their mouths were wet from shared kisses as well as sweat but no matter, it was still chaste. Long and drawn out with a dulcet edge to it. corrin moaned into it. Slowly loosening herself to more lewd noises; something that Niles relished though he relished all that Corrin murmured unto him.


	6. Her Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alm fixates on Celica's hand in the midst of their foreplay.

   Celica’s head lolled back as her eyes fluttered closed. Her dust-coloured eyelashes flicked about as her larynx bobbed in her throat. A palatable moan bubbled up through her and became dulcet in the air and in Alm’s head. His heart fluttered as he revelled in such a simple, primal sound.

   Alm mumbled, content, as his kissing continued. He had begun at the pad of her index finger. Her digit was achy as she held her hand for Alm to explore. The bedroom felt hot, even in their states of undress. His mouth was hotter, wetter too.

   He took good care of her. He slowly assessed her hand, each finger and each fiddly knob of her joints. Then, his lips – oddly soft despite being chapped – slid down her finger. He was gentle with her. Both in how he kissed her and in how moved her hand, so he may have better access to all its curves and rivets.

   Celica had such lovely hands. Her fingernails were immaculate, and her skin was moisturised; still vaguely scented of the lovely honey-milk soaps that she used. Celica’s hands were the hands of a holy woman: seemingly untouched by all which was harsh, imbued with the echoes of scriptures she had read. They were the hands of a princess. Again, soft and seeming without error. Made truly in the likeness of the divine like that of the royal blood which coursed through her veins.

   And yet, and Alm could not romanticise this enough, Celica’s hands were that of a warrior too. She was not carefree and unspoiled. She had spilt blood in the name of which was right and just. She had taken the hilt of swords and she had subdued lives using her magics. Her hands showed these as well; the pains of fighting.

   He kissed along her wrist and against her palm. His lips growing slowly fuzzy-feeling, swollen, with so much kissing. He did not leave a trail of marks or nips on her. Only the feeling of being kissed remained in the wake of Alm’s precious kissing.

   Celica smiled. Her lover, her husband, was so sweet as they engaged in these intimate rituals.

   Alm turned her hand over again. He pressed his mouth unto her brand. Celica swallowed. She could sense a slight change in him and she would be correct. As his eyes closed as he kissed, even letting his tongue preen over the skin dyed mauve with the brand, there was an ebbing of the bittersweet in him. Still, he kissed – ravished – her all whilst murmuring sweet nothings of her beauty and grace; of the love that he had unto her.


	7. Prisoner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Xander kinks on how his rival is now beneath him, at long last.

   Captain Xander strode into the brig. He had an attendant in tow, his younger brother, who sternly faced watched. The heavy, oaken door clanged behind them both, slamming back into its jamb. Captain Xander cocked a smile which incited both fear and vague lust in his prisoner.

   “Well, well, well,” he mused, “the high and mighty Captain Ryoma has been brought to me at last.”

   “I will never submit to you, cur!” Captain Ryoma spat.

   Captain Xander simply tutted as he slid a key into the lock. The rusted bars of the cell watched, quietly, as they were soon done away with. Captain Xander then waggled the fetish of freedom in front of Captain Ryoma to tantalise him. Then, he chucked it away to his attendant.

   “Your dismissed, Leo.” Captain Xander whispered.

   “Understood.”

   The door rattled again and then… silence. It permeated the brig; choking them. Then, Captain Xander took a bold breath and he leered down and over the once mighty Captain Ryoma brought to such pathetic bondage.

   Captain Xander drummed his fingers on the board which Captain Ryoma was bound to. Hands above him, drained of colour and going purplish, and then toyed along the chains themselves. They were heavy-duty and warm to the touch.

   “What do you want of me?” Captain Ryoma asked.

   “To boast. To make sure you know your place on this ship.” Captain Xander replied and he tracted his hand from above Captain Ryoma’s head.

   Now, they clutched onto his belt. Worn, black leather which would have been glorious once but now, in tatters. Slowly, his fingers wormed around the notches and buckles, undoing it and Captain Xander now brandished the belt.

   He whipped the bars behind him. It resounded and struck a strong chord of fear within Captain Ryoma. It echoed over and over in his head. His skin crawled and he could already imagine the welts that he might acquire should he displease or disobey the ruthless Dread Pirate before him.

   Captain Xander licked his lips. “Where’s that defiance gone?” he asked. “It’s not fun if you don’t fight back.”

   Captain Ryoma spat at Captain Xander’s boots.

   “Ah, that’s what I was looking for.” Captain Xander replied. “Do it. Fight tooth and nail. Defile me as I defile you.”

   Captain Ryoma glanced upwards from Captain Xander’s boots. It was with a tinge of regret that he realised that he had only bolstered the lust that had spurred Captain Xander to come visit him. He could see the fabric of his sturdy, seafaring slacks begin to tent and grow tight across the region of his crotch.

   It disgusted Captain Ryoma.

   But what disgusted him more was how Captain Xander toyed with the drawstrings. He smirked.

   “You’ll make a fine toy for me this afternoon, won’t you, prisoner?” he asked.

   “Go to Hell.” Captain Ryoma barked.

   “But I’ll take us both to Shangri-La first.” Captain Xander quipped as he undid his buttons, letting his erection spring free for the sole purpose of grasping it firmly.


	8. The Sweetest Champagne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicia has a rather delicious fantasy in mind for her and Leo's wedding night.

   Felicia perched herself on the rim of the bathtub. The trailing tulle of her dress dragged along the dry, porcelain base behind her. In front of her, her knees were exposed, and the bodice of her dress was slowly hunching over. As a result, the din of her pale breasts were being exposed centimetre by centimetre and she was not wearing a bra.

   Leo sauntered in. He sipped from a champagne glass. Felicia blushed.

   “I – I have a strange request.” she said. “And tonight seems like a good night and all for it…  I mean, you only get one wedding night…”

   “Go on.” Leo told her.

   “I want you to dump your champagne all over me. I – I want you to lick it off me.” Felicia shouted.

   Leo blushed. He blinked. He hadn’t expected Felicia to blurt all that out at once. And, judging by the tomatoey red of her cheeks, she was chastising herself for being so bold. He sighed. Smiled, even.

   “If that’s your fantasy.” he murmured.

   “It is. It really is!” Felicia assured him.

   Leo mumbled something inaudible as he inspected his champagne glass. The pale gold swirled around the glass, leaving bubbles behind before sloshing back to where it began. He nattered again, contemplating the taste of it.

   “Alright.” Leo said.

   He came a little closer. He looked down at Felicia as she madly looked up unto him. Her eyes were wild with desire: something which was unnatural for a woman such as Felicia. It was disconcerting but enticing.

   “Are you sure? Even with your wedding dress still on?” he asked.

   “I’m a master of spills, I know exactly how to get champagne out of a white dress. Don’t you worry, my love. So please, go ahead and… um….” Felicia said, and her voice turned erratic and coaxing.

   “Very well then.” Leo said.

   Then, unceremoniously, he tipped the champagne glass over his wife. She was thrilled as it hit her skin and the fabric of her dress. It seeped through the gracefully white fabric. It turned sticky upon her skin and weighed down the bodice. Her breasts slipped out and now dripped with the fluid.

   Felicia cooed, and she puffed up her chest. Leo understood so he knelt down. He placed one hand on the bath tub, clutching onto it tightly. The other, was taken by Felicia and their fingers intertwined.

   Leo kissed her mouth first. Something Felicia was vaguely displeased by as she controlled the rhythm; pliantly rejecting him so as to ease him elsewhere. So, it resulted in a chaste peck and Leo was forced to move his kiss elsewhere.

   He kissed above her left breast and she trilled sweetly. Felicia’s head slowly tipped back; her hair falling in gentle waves behind her, skirting along the bunched-up tulle at the base of her back. Then, she felt Leo’s tongue upon her. She moaned, indescribably, despite such a tentative lick upon her.

   Leo suckled her nipple, tongue rolling against the nub and sucking hard. He licked around it, as well. Kissing here and there; mumbling sweet nothings into her skin. It reverberated upon Felicia’s skin and she bucked her hips, her breasts moving gently with her virginal yet strangely primal movements.

   Never had champagne tasted so sweet and delicious, Leo found as he drank the drips from Felicia’s skin. Licking it off her, cleaning the mess for her. No wonder the maid found such appeal in such an obscure yet rather decadent and hedonistic fantasy.


	9. Victory; Bright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Siegbert: name meaning victory; bright.

   Xander kissed Mozu’s cheeks whilst he held her hands, fingers slowly and tightly intertwining. As his lips curtly graced her cheeks, he wondered would their progeny have a complexion like hers? Freckles and moles dusting olive skin? Or would their babe be more like him, fair and pale due to the Nohrian dark instead of the Hoshidan sun?

   Mozu gasped, whined, as Xander continued to gradually penetrate her slit as she straddled him atop their luxuriant bed. Silken and silent despite their arduous lovemaking. Her mewling, even now, was a sweet song upon Xander’s ears, encouraging him to go further and slower.

   Xander’s mouth moved from Mozu’s cheeks unto her jawline, until slipping beneath. He kissed the side of her neck. His swollen lips, growing numb with lust, felt her pulse. It was quick and rapid, and he could feel his heart beat just as swift. He smiled and sighed unto her skin, damaged by long hours in the sun, working as a farm hand - or even from playing.

   As the moonlight streamed through, from behind the curtains, and the shafts shifting around them, Xander found himself thinking, how much more beautiful Mozu would be, basking in the sun. She deserved such warmth, but they were romantics. Something about doing this sort of thing beneath the cover of night - without even the guidance of a flickering candle - enticed them.

   Especially as they had a prior agreement. Tonight, they would make a babe.

   It had been Mozu’s idea. She had been the one to suggest parenthood but Xander was a perceptive husband. He had seen the signs that his little wife had begun to want to be a mother. And, as a king, he was eager to produce an heir, so he was more than happy to oblige.

   Xander gave another thrust and Mozu squeaked. She took a breath and held it steady as she eased around him. It was going to be a long night, but longer nights were still to come.


	10. Purple Dusk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Cherche unwinds for the night, she realises that she may have a voyeur.

   Cherche is fairly certain that there was someone staring at her, but she didn’t mind. She found it strangely empowering. It put her in a mood where she felt as though she had stepped into a dream - or had just stepped out of one. It was a smoky and hazy sort of dusk and as the last sunbeams came through her transparent curtains, Cherche felt glamorous. Magical.

   So, she stepped in front of the window. She was two storeys up. She had her back turned and she was quite certain that her neighbour was watching. She hoped that whoever it was, didn’t mind becoming part of her fantasy; it was that sort of summer night, she was thinking. Hoping.

   She reached down, in a rather impractical way, to untie the straps from around her ankles. As a result, her pencil skirt - black and small - hiked up and Cherche checked underneath. She smiled. She was newly shorn so there were no stray red hairs below and her legs were long and fine.

   She hoped that her voyeur likes black silk. She certainly did.

   Cherche reigned back and then unbuttoned her blouse. She did so slowly, as to reveal her back; her spine, column by column as the fabric itself fell to around her elbows. Cherche was strangely proud of her back. She thought herself flexible and the skin was clear and soft. She often soaked in luxuriant soaps and oils.

   Tonight, she might just do that and sit beneath the faucet for her own, masturbatory pleasure. But, for now, she wanted to entertain her voyeur and there was still plenty more of herself to reveal ever so elegantly before the window.

   She unclipped her bra from the front and it fell away gracefully. She only ever wore the best. If she was wearing anything less, she just couldn’t muster the right confidence. How peculiar and vain, yes?

   The black silk bra was soon discarded and Cherche ventured forth towards her drawers. She began to examine her options. She was thinking red, like the burning sunset but would it clash with her hair?

   Cherche was uncertain so she laced the negligee she considered across her so that, like Godiva, her nipples were covered but the rest of her breast was essentially revealed. She twirled, idly, around. The sunbeams bouncing off all her curves, the curves which were hidden beneath her panties, anyway.

   She then sighed. No, not red after all and then, her eyes darting out towards the window, she saw the last of dusk dissipate and the beginning of night. She smiled. Inspired.

   _Purple_ , Cherche thought to herself, _tomorrow I shall wear purple_.

   So, she returned to her drawers. the curtains flicking up at the bottoms with the wind and she kept shifting her weight from one foot to another, her ass going up and down, prancing on the spot, as she dug through her lingerie drawers in search of her purple set.

   She truly hoped that, whoever it was, beyond the opaque reaches of her curtains, had enjoyed the show.


	11. Armour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celica finds herself enamoured with Alm's armour.

   Celica tentatively placed her hand on the breast of Alm’s armour. It was a far cry from the soft fabric he dressed in as a child. It felt strange, having to reconcile his age with the time. Part of him was forever small and vulnerable from spending blissful childhood days together but, just as she had grown older, as had Alm.

   Celica’s fingers slipped beneath the chinks. “Curious as to what’s beneath?” Alm asked as she continued to study his more fit physique and how it likely filled out beneath his armour.

   “Yes, I am actually,” Celica replied with a note of amusement.

   “Well, you can help me take it off… maybe do more as well.” Alm suggested with hints of lust in his voice.

   There was a glimmer in his eyes. “That sounds lovely.” Celica replied.

   She ceased her trailing of her finger tips down the sternum of his blue armour. She lifted her hands away and placed them either side of his face. There was still some hint of the baby fat in his cheeks and she pressed a kiss unto his lips.

   Alm kissed back. His kiss was very adult and awoke Celica from her reveries regarding how time changes. The kiss deepened quicker than she anticipated but she didn’t mind, humming into it and coming to hold her hands behind his head.


	12. The Ire of Her Bratty Mistress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noire likes to rile Severa up.

   Severa’s latex boot gleamed before Noire’s very eyes. The black had turned silver in the streaming moonlight without light. There wasn’t even a flickering, bedside candle to burn vigil to the lust that they both young women were experiencing.

   Noire salivated as Severa continued to dominate her; continued to poke her boot into Noire’s mouth and forcing her to acknowledge it. Taste it; lick across it or otherwise nearly choke on it. All things that Noire was far too eager to do as her tongue explored the bridge of Severa’s boot and kissed and suckled dearly with eyes shut, as though she were blissfully experiencing something otherwise sweet and vanilla.

   Something which viscerally disgusted Severa to no end. She folded her arms. The squeak of her latex gloves could be heard as she wrapped up herself, beneath her bosom which did not fill out the bodice of her outfit at all.

   “You’re such a pervert.” she snapped. Her twin pigtails bobbed up and down as she spoke animatedly with such a foul and genuine expression on her face.

   “And you’re such a brat; taking on such a dominant role when I know that if you had things your way, it’d be you beneath my boot.” Noire snarled. Anything to rile up her mistress…

   “What the hell did you say to me?! You’re one horny bitch, Noire. Like a dog.” Severa snapped.

   She moved her foot down from Noire’s face, she trod lightly between Noire’s exposed breasts. Noire sucked in a quick breath as she was given a curt moment to admire how Severa’s boot appeared between her breasts. It was perfect. Not to mention the sensation of leather, preened and treated for tonight and only tonight, against her skin was immaculate. Only for Severa to snatch such a pleasure from her all too soon. Severa then settled just below Noire’s naval; digging her blunted heel into the extremely sensitive flesh beneath the bulge of Noire’s stomach.

   “Why do you even like this? Being made to feel like your less than dirt! You disgust me.”

   Noire swooned. She panted as Severa applied yet more pressure to below her naval. Noire felt her cunt, wrapped so tightly in silky small clothes, moisten. More, more, more! She wanted more!

   “You treat me so kindly, Severa,” Noire panted, “I – I like it when you’re mean to me. It turns me on so bad… Come on, I annoy you to hell and back, don’t I? Give me your worst!”

   “Ugh, you’re impossible!” Severa yelled. “You sound so fucking horny, it’s revolting, Noire.”

   Noire grinned. Yes, exactly like that. She wanted nothing more than the ire of her bratty mistress.


	13. Nothing You Would Like

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mozu confesses something intimate to Xander.

   Mozu crawled into bed next to Xander. He was propped up against the bed board. She was squirming under the sheets, not facing him as she was prepared to doze whilst he read but then, she turned over.

   “What are you reading?” she asked. She didn’t recognise the cover.

   “A horrible account of events. Nothing you would like.” Xander said. “I don’t like it either, truth be told but morbid curiosity is a tempting devil.”

   “Yeah, I know that feeling…” Mozu mumbled and she turned over.

   “I can put out the candle if you wish, I’m not that absorbed in it.” Xander told her.

   “Naw, you’re good… But, uh, horrible events huh?” Mozu mused aloud. “Reminds me of somethin’. Pretty silly in hindsight.”

   “What’s that, dear?” Xander asked.

   Mozu snickered. “Really silly in hindsight. But you wouldn’t like it. I don’t even like it…”

   “Are you sure? This sounds like its coming from somewhere far deeper than not being told what a novel is about…?” Xander asked.

   “Only a li’l.” Mozu mumbled.

   She pushed the sheets down and sat up. She fixed the pillow and then gazed up at Xander. He had kind eyes, but they were hidden by the creases of his brows and his otherwise stern portrait. But Mozu knew better.

   “Can I, um, tell you somethin’ ‘bout me? Promise me you won’t… uh… think differently. I ain’t a dirty girl, at least not that kinda dirty…” Mozu rambled.

   “I don’t understand.” Xander confessed.

   Mozu took a breath. “Back when I was a li’l younger, and uh… just comin’ out the throes of puberty an’ all that, I, uh… was still trying to find myself sexually speaking. I’ve never touched m’self but I’ve thought about doing it. I’ve had fantasies. Um, fantasies about you.”

   “Me?” Xander echoed, confused.

   “In my little rural village, you Nohr soldiers and the Faceless… y’all were the stuff of bogeymen. And oh gods, Xander, please don’t hate me but I used to think about you whenever I wanted to explore myself like that. Carnally…” Mozu continued.

   Xander’s brows quirked. He was flattered but he was also deeply off-put that his wife would be aroused by such a thing; especially in tangent to him. Masturbation, of girls and even girls like Mozu, was not something he thought ill of, but he suspected more lurked still. Mozu licked her lips.

   “I don’t ever want someone – especially you – to do somethin’ like that to me but uh, gods, I used to fantasise that you an’ yer army would storm the village and only promise to leave if you were given somethin’ good. We’d offer you all our vegetables, but you’d stick yer nose up but then you’d see me, holdin’ a tray of our finest and decide you would want me. And I’d protest, and Ma and Pa would protest and you jus’ wouldn’t take “no” fer an answer so you’d, um, you’d just… take me. You’d grab me by tha hair and drag me off somewhere and you’d…”

   “And I would rape you?” Xander interrupted her; though, it wasn’t so much an interruption as it was finishing her sentence.

   One that she couldn’t bring herself to finish but Mozu bashfully nodded. Her cheeks blushed, and she seemed to be heavily, internally chastising herself.

   “What a… uh… vile thing to imagine, huh?” Mozu mumbled.

   Xander was not entirely certain of what to say. He was uncertain as to how he ought to process such information. He had to agree, it was “vile”, but he would imagine, there was more to it than that due to how disenfranchised rural women could be. Especially foreign, rural women.

   So, he smiled. “I understand. Furthermore, I don’t harbour any ill unto you. In fact, I’m flattered that you feel that you can share such a deeply personal thing about yourself like that.”

   Mozu sighed. “Thank the heavens…”

   “But would you like to try such a scenario, is that something you would be interested in?” Xander dared to asked.

   “What?” Mozu exclaimed.

   “It’s not uncommon to try daring things in the bedroom, after all. We could role play your little fantasy and I promise, you will be in control at all times.” Xander said.

   “It’s a little scary…” Mozu mumbled.

   “It was just a suggestion.” Xander embarrassedly assured her.

   Mozu hummed and her brows knitted together. “Part of me, even though I now know you’re not some fiend, is still… aroused by the idea of something similar to it.”

   “Well, would you like to try it then?” Xander asked. “Right now?”

   “Sounds good…” Mozu replied and she undid the top button on her night shirt.

   She flopped down onto the bed and Xander soon straddled her. He grasped onto her wrists.

   “Is this alright?” he asked.

   “Yeah.” Mozu replied. “So, c’mon, take me now and you can be as rough as you like. And can ya pretend that we ain’t married? Like we’re strangers?”

   “If that’s what appeals to you.” Xander replied.

   “It sure does.” Mozu replied and after that, they both sank into the scene.

   Xander growled and he kissed her neck, sinking his teeth in. She moaned, and he groped her breast. His fingers gliding over the silk of her blouse. Mozu playfully struggled but he held her steady before taking his time to undo every button on her shirt. Mozu’s heart pounded, strangely exhilarated, whilst Xander carefully examined every movement of his ‘unwilling’ wife.


End file.
